Whisper's Edge (3 page)

He shook his head. “Ah…no.”

“Then you’re not going to melt.”

“Well, true, but I have an important meeting to attend in a little over an hour.” He raked his fingers through his dark, wet hair and grimaced. “And I’m not exactly presentable.”

“Oh, look, I truly am sorry for the confusion.” Savannah felt her anger evaporate but then frowned when she recalled the sleek sports car parked in front of the office. Her heart suddenly started to thud. “Excuse me, but may I ask…who are you?”

A dark eyebrow shot up. “Tristan McMillan.”

Oh no
…“Related to Maxwell McMillan?” Although she had never met the man, it was the name signed on her paychecks. Rumor had it that Whisper’s Edge was struggling and without a buyer would be sold on the courthouse steps. Her heart pounded. Was he here to deliver bad news?

“As most of you know, my grandfather has retired to
Florida for…uh, health reasons. I’ve purchased the property from him.”

Savannah’s eyes widened and she heard a ripple of excitement go through the crowd. Bathing-capped heads bobbed like floating balloons and the Camden brothers stopped bouncing tennis balls. Even Willie seemed to sit up and take notice. The fact that Whisper’s Edge was for sale wasn’t a secret. But although no one really talked about it, the residents lived in silent fear that the retirement community might close down if a buyer wasn’t found.

Miss Patty’s face broke into a wide smile. “Well then, young Mr. McMillan, it appears as if you truly are a hero!” When she started applauding, everyone joined in, including Savannah. But when Savannah looked up at Tristan she noticed that, although he smiled back, something flickered in his brown eyes that gave her pause. A cold shot of fear slithered down her spine but when she saw the radiant faces of the senior ladies whom she dearly loved, Savannah decided she was being overly cautious. Whisper’s Edge had a buyer! Her prayers had been answered and it was time to celebrate! Savannah turned to her new boss and smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. McMillan. Whisper’s Edge is a wonderful community. I haven’t had the, um, pleasure of meeting him but I’m sure your grandfather is proud and happy that you’re keeping Whisper’s Edge in the family.”

“I was more than happy to do it,” Tristan answered but there was a wry tone to his voice that Savannah didn’t miss. She’d also heard stories about Max McMillan, and not all of them were good. “While I grew up in the northern part of Kentucky near Cincinnati, I spent some time here as a kid.”

“Well, we’re grateful,” Miss Patty said. “No disrespect, but your grandpappy has been an absentee owner for quite some time now. His signature is about all we ever see of him.”

“I intend to make some major improvements. In fact—”

“Hear, hear!” shouted Clovis, raising his tennis racket skyward. Clyde joined him and was quickly followed by the
women raising their noodles. Somebody started singing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” and the crowd joined in, ending with more applause.

Savannah noticed that Tristan seemed a bit flustered by the cheers. He shifted his weight from one wet-socked foot to the other and said, “Please, applause isn’t necessary.”

“On the contrary,” Miss Patty announced and got nods of approval. “We’ve been worried that we’d soon be out of house and home. This is really grand news! We can’t thank you enough, Mr. McMillan.”

“No, really…” Tristan raised his hands while giving them a shake of his head.

Savannah thought his humbleness was rather sweet, and silently acknowledged that she had misjudged him. “Mr. McMillan, allow me to formerly introduce myself.” She extended her hand and beamed at him. “I’m Savannah Perry, social director and Girl Friday to Kate Winston, whom I’m sure you’ve already met. I do my best to schedule fun events and help keep daily operations running smoothly.” She squeezed his hand. “I’d like to give you a warm…instead of
wet
, welcome!”

“T
HANK YOU,” TRISTAN REPLIED. SAVANNAH’S GRIP FELT
surprisingly strong for such a little thing, and although he wasn’t easily charmed, Tristan found her sweet smile to be infectious.

“Sorry I was so snarky earlier.” She pressed her lips together and gave him a small shrug. “And you know, that you jumped into the pool and all that.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Tristan found himself grinning. “I’m not going to melt, as you pointed out.”

“Sorry ’bout that…” she said with a wince. When she tilted her head to the side, sunshine glinted off her auburn hair, which was starting to curl as it dried. Nutmeg-colored freckles dusted a perky nose. She was pretty in a wholesome girl-next-door kind of way—totally not Tristan’s type and yet he felt a tug of awareness when her fingers slipped out of his grasp.

“Like you said, gives me something to talk about.”

“So true.” Savannah’s laugh was a throaty, pleasant sound that made Tristan want to tell a joke just to hear it again. She glanced at the onlookers, who watched with rapt
interest. “And the main subject over the dinner table at Whisper’s Edge. Am I right?” Nods and the tinkle of giggles followed Savannah’s question. Tristan couldn’t help but notice that the assembled crowd looked at her with fondness, making him believe that she really did excel at her job. “See?” She put her hands on her hips and grinned.

“I do.” Tristan felt a flash of guilt. If things went as planned, Savannah’s position wouldn’t be necessary. But as he frowned, her lively expression dimmed.

“We are a close-knit community,” she explained uncertainly. “News travels fast here.”

“I don’t mind being the topic of conversation,” Tristan assured her. “Believe me, it’s happened many times.” In this very town, he thought with dark humor.

“Oh, well, good,” she said with a smile but the uncertainty remained in her eyes. “I guess…”

Tristan found himself laughing. “Not always,” he acknowledged. His laughter seemed to put her at ease. “I’m not one to care much what people say or think about me.” Not that he wasn’t above making his grandfather eat crow. The judgmental old coot had caused him and his mother a lot of heartache.

“Good for you. Be true to yourself,” Miss Patty chimed in, and Tristan found himself getting yet another round of applause.

Savannah leaned close and stood on tiptoe. “Looks like you’ve already won them over,” she said as near to his ear as she could manage. Although short in stature, Tristan knew from recent up-close-and-personal experience that Savannah had an abundance of curves in all the right places. He wouldn’t soon forget the feel of pulling her out of the water. Sweet yet sexy came to mind and Tristan forced himself to rein in his thoughts in order to concentrate on what Savannah was saying. “Good for you.” Savannah gave his forearm a squeeze but then quickly dropped her hand as if she thought she might have overstepped her bounds. When she took a step away from him Tristan had the odd urge to
pull her close once more. “Now, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

“I…uh…” he stuttered as an instant image of her undressing him popped into his mind. For a lawyer with a hard-nosed reputation, he wasn’t usually at a loss for words, but Tristan suddenly found himself feeling terribly tongue-tied.

“Cat got yer tongue?” one of the tennis-clad twins inquired and then elbowed his brother.

No, the thought of Savannah removing his clothes got his tongue. “Excuse me?” Tristan managed to ask.

“I meant your…you know…your
wet
clothes.” Savannah blushed and shot an I-can’t-believe-you look at the twins. “I can round up a robe or something for you to wear,” she assured him. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink.

Miss Patty shook her head. “Don’t pay any attention to those two yahoos. Their minds are always in the gutter.”

Savannah cleared her throat, drawing Tristan’s attention. He tried not to notice how her wet clothes were clinging to her curves and pretty much failed. Although his demanding career had left him with little time for romance, the women he’d dated had been reed thin. But suddenly he found himself wondering what had been the attraction of skin and bones.

“Mr. McMillan, what I was trying to say is that I have a dryer.”

Tristan blinked at her for a moment. Wow, she had amazing green eyes.

“I’ll be happy to dry your clothing so you can be presentable for your meeting.”

Tristan suddenly realized that everyone was looking at him expectantly. He reeled his wayward thoughts back in. “Oh, sure, thanks.”

“It’s the very least I can do.” Savannah smiled and then turned to the group awaiting water aerobics. “Joy, would you lead the class while I dry Mr. McMillan’s clothes?”

A woman stepped forward. “Certainly, Savannah.” She
raised her chin and plunked her noodle down in front of her like a wizard’s staff. “I’ll give these girls a workout. Now, you two run along.”

“Thanks, Joy.” Savannah waved at the ladies and then turned back to Tristan. “Follow me, please.”

“Sure.” Right now, he would follow her anywhere, he thought as he hid a grin.

Savannah darted over and retrieved his loafers and held on to them with her fingertips. “I don’t suggest putting them on until I dry your socks,” she explained with a wry smile. While he peeled off his socks she slipped her own feet into her flip-flops and then frowned at the one missing a daisy.

Tristan glanced around and spotted the yellow flower at the edge of the grass. With a chuckle, he walked over and picked it up. “I think this is yours.”

“Thanks.” Savannah accepted the flower with a soft smile. “We made these in craft class.” She raised her adorned flip-flop and wiggled her foot.

“You’re the instructor?” Tristan asked as they fell into step together. “You must be artistic.”

Savannah arched one eyebrow. “Well, I spent a lot of time in camp while growing up so I know tons of easy things to make. This particular project turned out to be a big hit.”

“I could see that.” He followed her down the sidewalk past mobile homes of various shapes and sizes. Although none of them appeared expensive or flashy, Tristan could feel the residents’ sense of pride in their small but immaculate yards and patios. Flags depicting summer scenes, sports mascots, and the stars and stripes cheerfully waved in the gentle breeze. Gurgling fountains, bird feeders, colorful gnomes, praying angels, and dressed geese might be cheesy, but to Tristan’s surprise he found the homespun decor rather charming. Music, conversation, and laughter filtered their way, and every single person they encountered smiled and waved. To the left a group of men were pitching a lively game of horseshoes while several women looked on, chatting away.

“This is nice.” Tristan nodded, and drew a curious look from Savannah.

“I agree, but you seem surprised. Surely you knew what the grounds looked like?”

“My mother was born in Cricket Creek but I was raised north of here. I haven’t actually been back to Whisper’s Edge in years.”

“So a lot has changed?”

“Well, when I was a kid this was more of a fishing and boating community. Not all of the permanent mobile homes were here. I didn’t realize how many people actually lived here year-round.” The realization bothered him. Uprooting people wasn’t part of his plan. He remembered Cricket Creek as being a sleepy little town. “I guess a lot of things changed after Noah Falcon built the baseball stadium.”

Her eyes widened and she pulled up short. “You’re kidding? I would have thought you’d have visited before buying.”

He shrugged. “I was looking for an investment. With the recent growth along the riverfront this seemed like a no-brainer,” he explained. “Besides, after eight grueling years of practicing law with a big firm in Cincinnati I was eager for a change. A nice case settlement has allowed me to try something different.”
And show my grandfather what I’m made of
, went through his head but he kept that little tidbit to himself.

“Oh…Savannah nodded and seemed to be digesting his comment. She finally angled her head and gave him a questioning expression. “So you decided to quit the firm and move to Cricket Creek, Kentucky, to run a retirement community? I realize that my question might be bold—but do you think you’ll be challenged enough by this?”

“I’m not offended. The only way to get answers is to ask questions.”

“I’m curious by nature.”

“Not a bad trait.”

“So…do you?”

“Think I’ll miss my job?” When she nodded, Tristan
inhaled a deep breath. In truth, although his job had been stressful, going on a sabbatical ended up being more difficult than he bargained for. Leaving behind friends and colleagues proved to be more of an issue than he imagined, leading Tristan to immediately question his decision. And although, as always, his mother had put up a brave front, moving several hours away from her had made Tristan feel guilty. It didn’t help that she’d made it clear that, as a seasoned real estate agent, she thought Tristan’s vision for Whisper’s Edge was smart, but she didn’t like his core motive for buying the property from her father. And although she hated the long, grueling hours he put in at the firm, she also wasn’t sure he should take leave from a successful career that he’d worked so hard to establish. Although he left the door open to return she remained skeptical.

At his silence, Savannah put a hand on his forearm. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m being too nosy. I’ll quit prying.”

Tristan tried to put her at ease with a smile. “Savannah, I pry information out of people for a living. And while I found satisfaction in winning settlements for deserving clients…to put it bluntly, I was just tired of long hours of research and arguing for a living.” Tristan knew he hadn’t really satiated all of her curiosity, but he wasn’t ready to divulge his plans for Whisper’s Edge yet. There was no reason to alarm her or the community when most of his ideas were still in the planning stages.

“Oh…”

To divert her attention, Tristan put his lawyer hat on and decided to ask some questions of his own. “So, were you born here in Cricket Creek?”

“No.” When she resumed walking down the sidewalk he fell in step beside her.

“Where then?”

Savannah gave him a slight shrug followed by a small smile. “Maybe someday I’ll find that out. I’ve lived here longer than I lived anywhere else and I can’t imagine leaving. This is home.”